Finding Your Role
by Philothei
Summary: It hadn't taken Gendry long to figure out she was a girl.


**First tiptoe into the Game of Thrones universe. **

**Mein Gat, I never ever want to leave ever again omg. **

**Disclaimer: Own nothing **

**Summary**: **It hadn't taken Gendry long to figure out she was a girl. **

**oOoOoOoOoOo**

It hadn't taken Gendry long to figure out she was a girl.

He sat awake in the dead of night as the others slept, the fire burning low in the centre of the cloaked bundles.

He looked next to him where she lay, her face even more feminine in sleep.

She was clearly a girl. The high cheekbones, the big, innocent eyes, the unworked, smooth hands gave it away within days.

As did, of course, the private way she sidled into the woods to piss, rather than line up along the river with the rest of them each time they stopped.

It hadn't taken Gendry long to figure out 'Arry was Arya.

He sat awake in the dead of night as the others slept, the fire burning low in the centre of the cloaked bundles. Finding out that little Arya was in fact Little Lady Arya of House Stark had troubled him.

Mainly because it had taken an even shorter time for him to summarize what would happen to the girl if any of the men, the thieves and traitors and _rapers _would do if they found out too. He'd heard what one the caged men said to her, about fucking her up the arse. That was all he'd needed to hear to make him clench his jaw in anger, his hands turning white as he gripped the small, wooden tub he moved towards the river.

Because for some reason, Gods only knew, he had taken to the child the moment he'd first seen her shoved by Hot Pie. It reminded him of a little boy who trailed Gendry around, a tiny thing - he was Arya's age, seeking protection from the bully that worked for the baker. The little boy who'd watched him leave for The Wall with wet eyes and hanging shoulders as they'd disappeared through the gates.

He'd watch from the corner from his eye as she struggled through muddy dips in the road, or as they battled with the carts over rocky, tree-root ridden paths. At one point that day they'd come across a broken bridge, partly destroyed perhaps by Stark spies, or Lannisters trying to stop spies, or simply old age. The wood was burned in parts, other parts loose and split, the rest on the verge of collapsing into the river below. The pair had been amongst the first to cross, to "check the weight for the wagons."

"More to see if we break our necks before they risk their own," Gendry mumbled to Arya, who giggled nervously. He had looked down, surprised the strong "boy" sounded so… unsure. She followed the rickety bridge with her eyes, her face suddenly pale, her eyes wide.

He edged closer to her, watching as some of the others slowly picked their way onto the first steps of the bridge. "You scared?"

She sucked in a breath and spun to look at him, her mouth open and eyebrows furrowed. "Scared? Me? Don't be ridiculous."

He crossed his arms. "Then go."

"You go."

"I'm right behind you."

She paused, sucking her lip. "You go first."

"Why?"

"To… check the weight."

Gendry was about to reply when a yell came from the back of the procession. "Get a move on you useless bastards, or I'll throw you down myself."

The blacksmith laid a rough hand on the child's back, pushing her forward. She stopped herself with scuffling feet. "Move, 'Arry!"

"I can't!"

"Who in the seven Hells is holding us up? Do you need to be whipped forward like a damn horse?" Demanded a hoarse, angry voice, and Gendry didn't miss the scared look that passed the child's face as she turned to look.

"For fuck's sake," he mumbled, grabbing her by her waist and tossing her upper body over his shoulder. She squeaked in indignation as Gendry stopped to balance himself out, before she began pounding on his back. "What do you think you are doing?" she hissed, "Put me down! Put me down now!"

He quickly and gracefully treaded over the falling bridge, more afraid of the seething bundle in his arms as he dropped her on the other side than anything else.

He grinned at the memory, glancing again down at her. A frown quickly shadowed his face again as he returned to his train of thought.

Arya. The little boy back home. Rapers and men who hadn't seen a woman in weeks. She was a child; a child would do.

He shuddered.

He'd seen one of the men already looking hungrily at her as she'd scrubbed pans in the river that very day – she was too vulnerable. Too little. Even her tiny sword didn't make her look any more vicious.

He chewed his lip as dark thoughts clouded his mind. He didn't like to think it, but he knew the Gods had decided Gendry's role in this story was protector; not hero, or villain, or joker – he was protector.

And it hadn't taken him long to figure out who he was meant to protect.

He quickly pulled his cloak from his shoulders and threw it over the girl, and smiled as she snuggled into it, mumbling in her sleep. Gendry looked back into the fire.

Lord Stark had been kind to the blacksmith, and he was content to care for his daughter, even if the man didn't know.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**It's been done, and it's not perfect! **

**I'm only halfway through the second series, and a third of my way into the first book – forgive me if any of it isn't right, or OOC.**

**Thanks for reading - would love some feedback so I know what to do next :) **


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